Page 2 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter One

Isabella

Five years ago

“ H appy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Isa… happy birthday to you.”

Mari and Mia sing louder than necessary, clapping offbeat to embarrass me.

It works.

I laugh, rolling my eyes as the waiter sets down the enormous chocolate cake in front of me, seventeen candles burning brightly, dripping wax onto the glossy dark icing.

But I barely see any of it.

Not with Luca sitting across from me.

Not with him looking at me like that .

Like I’m already his.

Like I’ve always been his.

His gaze never wavers. Steady. Certain. Quiet in a way that sets me on fire from the inside out every time.

It’s not loud or showy, not the kind of look that begs to be noticed .

It’s the opposite.

Private. Intimate. For me and me alone.

And it makes my heart trip all over itself. Because I know exactly what it means.

Luca Caruso is two years older than me. Officially, he’s been my fiancé since my birthday last year.

Our fathers arranged our betrothal long before I was old enough to understand what it even meant. Long before I learned what it felt like to belong to someone. And long before I ever thought I might want to.

But I do now.

God, I do.

His mouth lifts at the corner, barely a smile, but I feel it like a touch against my skin. Like a secret only we share. The way we always do.

Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. Maybe that’s not so surprising. He’s always been there.

Watching. Learning. Waiting.

For me.

We’re sitting in a private dining room at Celestro, one of Sicily’s best seafood restaurants. It’s a birthday dinner arranged by my father.

But it’s not really for me.

Seventeen isn’t worth celebrating unless you’re a son. My father regretfully has none. Only five daughters, a fact he laments every chance he gets.

He couldn’t care less that it’s my birthday. Left to him, this would’ve been a simple dinner at home while he dealt with Mafia business.

But that was exactly Luca’s point.

“We’re engaged,” he told my father. Calm. Certain. Already sounding like he speaks for both of us. “It’s good to be seen out together.”

And that’s all it took.

My father might not do much for his daughters, but for Luca Caruso, the boy he’s always treated like the son he never had, he’d do almost anything.

My favorite seafood feast, the candlelit table overlooking the sea, the hovering waiter tending to us like we’re royalty… all of it arranged and paid for by my father.

But the real reason we’re here? This was Luca.

His little glances when no one’s watching, the brush of his knee against mine, the curve of his mouth when Mari and Mia bicker over dessert, they give him away to me.

Father only insisted we weren’t out alone.

Engaged or not, that isn’t allowed until we’re married. And we can’t get married until I’m eighteen. Which is exactly why Mari and Mia are here.

My little sisters, fifteen and thirteen, are assigned to chaperone us, as if that will actually stop anything.

It won’t.

Not when they’d never tell on me because they adore Luca almost as much as I do.

And not when disappearing with him for a little while is all I can think about.

God, I hope he’s planned for that too.

I ache to touch him. To kiss him. To slip away and be with him. Without eyes on us, without rules, without pretending we’re patient.

“Blow out the candles,” Mari grins, nudging my shoulder like I’m taking too long, while Mia taps her wrist like she’s wearing a watch.

But it’s Luca’s voice that slides beneath my skin and takes hold.

“Make a wish, farfalla ,” he murmurs, low and dark, like a secret meant only for me.

Farfalla . Butterfly.

He’s called me that since I was three. Back then, my favorite dress had wings stitched to the back, and I’d twirl until I got dizzy. He used to mock me for it, all boyish and smug.

The nickname stuck, always meant as a tease… until I turned fourteen.

Something in the way he said it changed then. And the way he looked at me? It got more intense.

He was sixteen then. Old enough to notice. Old enough to want.

His voice is a rough caress against my skin, and my body responds before my mind does, heat pooling low in my belly, making me lose track of what he’s saying.

My gaze snags on his and I forget how to breathe. Forget where I am. Forget everything except him.

“Don’t take forever,” Mia complains, snapping me back to glance at the candles in front of me.

Seventeen flames flicker in the dark, their glow heating my skin as I lean in.

I could wish for freedom, escape, or even rebellion. Any of them would make sense, growing up in the golden cage built for Accardi girls, where obedience is expected, and defiance not tolerated.

But I only want one thing… one person.

Luca.

One stolen hour tonight with the boy I’ve loved my entire life is all I want.

I close my eyes, make my wish, and blow out the candles.

When I open them again, Luca is already watching me like he knows.

He always knows.

The corner of his mouth curves, slow and dangerous.

“Careful, farfalla ,” he says, his voice a promise and a warning all at once. “Wishes like that have a way of coming true.”